


Tossed By The Waves But Does Not Sink

by Techpriestess



Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: 42m, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hope, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:05:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Techpriestess/pseuds/Techpriestess
Summary: It's been ten millennia since Constantin Valdor has seen the Cradleworld. When he returns, he finds a familiar face haunting the room he used to occupy.





	1. Enter Therein

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Master of Mankind's Return](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/439182) by Templarhalo. 



> Originally posted on Tumblr.

Ten Thousand years.

It had been more than a dozen lifetimes since he had seen the cradle world, left behind in search of things the Legio so desperately needed. Things the Imperium needed. He had wondered how it might have changed since that time, whispered about it with Jenetia in their sojourn. Her eyes crinkled, sometimes in amusement, sometimes in sadness. Both had longed for home more than either could put into words. Both hoped it had, in their absence, found some recovery since that catastrophic time.

She was almost a star in her own right, the surface glittering with trillions of lumens and flames that never went out. Orbital and suborbital defense stations peppered between shipping lanes that never ceased flowing like iron rings attempting to contain her. He could have sung the songs of old to see her so alive again.

That joy bled from him once he found the surface. Shrines and churches had sprung up, honoring the spots where traitors had hammered to gain footing, and where loyal sons had bled and died. Memories washed over him as he and his companion were led through to the dazzling splendor of the Palace. Friends, brothers, sisters, his closest kin, had been spilling blood and losing their lives for years up until that final crisis, but it was the last, and worst of all, to bear. The grief of his shame, their failure, had hung heavy on his shoulders then. 

He had not expected a positive reception. Anything less than incredible suspicion would have disappointed him; the circumstances of his departure and the length of his absence should elicit nothing less than the most stringent of tests to check the ancient ident-monikers in what remained of his armor and his battered weapon, and genetic comparisons to what had survived in the millennia of strife. He submitted without complaint, as did Jenetia.

Upon release, he wandered toward his original quarters. The current Captain General had warned him they were occupied now, and had been since before Valoris was a Ligo Aeto, by a Custodian from a time before. She would not be uprooted easily. The name sent a rush down his spine, and he lingered for no additional explanation.

His private chambers had changed little, with books neatly lining shelves and kept in stasis fields to preserve them. Trophies and tokens from battles long forgotten remained on the walls or in cases. There were several more, items he could not place as to its history; they could only be hers. He passed by them, silent, and into the central courtyard.

She had her back turned to him, but she was unmistakable with the brilliant red and gold Aquila wings inked into her shoulders beneath a panoply of beads and chains. A smile curled his lips; she had once been called mother bird, all those years ago. He wondered if she still did. She was engrossed in the book in her lap as she sat on a stone bench beside the garden’s pool. The grass crunched beneath his feet as he approached, breaking her from her reverie. In a moment she had a hand on the Miescorida grip strapped to her back hips and she was facing him, crouching in feral threat.

“Arturia…” He breathed her name, heart suddenly pounding in his chest. Would she recognize him? Was she still angry at his disappearance? The briefest of doubts flickered in his mind.

She stared at him, the tension in her shoulders ready to meet the heavy Appolyon Spear at his side. Her head cocked to one side, as if to test if he were an apparition. “Constantin?” The former Captain General paused, letting the hope roll over him. The edges of his eyes crinkled as he looked at her. She edged closer, like one of the big felines of old investigating a newcomer. Suspicion creased her brow. “Are you…?”

“I have returned.” He finished the incomplete thought. She pursed her lips, her hand falling from the blade at her back. A tumult of emotion crossed her features, and for a moment he thought to apologize for the renewed raw hurt he saw dominate. He extended a hand to her, and she took it, her fingers readily lacing with his. She hesitated a moment, before closing the last of the gap. Her other hand rested just below his jaw line and her face buried in his shoulder. Her shoulders shuddered with the tears she had not the energy to cry all those years ago.

“I missed you.”

He rested her head on hers. “I missed you too.”


	2. Coming Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arturia Blackhawk is surprised by the return of a man she thought long dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead. Originally posted on Tumblr.

A crunch snapped her attention up and behind her. The book in her lap was forgotten, dropping to the bench a moment ago she had been sitting upon. She stared at the source, her hand on the hilt of the weapon on her back. Several thoughts tumbled through her mind in quick succession- who would dare violate her solitude, followed close by the the confusion at armor she did not recognize, but a weapon she very much did, colliding into the abrupt recognition of the scruffy face of the man who now stood before her. A flood of memories rushed to the forefront of her mind unbidden, and the reminder of her raw grief unresolved without answers.

“Arturia…” He breathed, his eyes locking with hers. She knew this face, this voice. She had known him most intimately, millennia ago.

She edged closer, disbelieving in this dream made real. “Are you…?”

“I have returned.” The smile on Constantin’s face turned to something akin to apologetic, and offered her his free hand. She took it without hesitation as joy bloomed on her face, her bare hand lacing with his gloved fingers. The reality of his presence was novel; how often had she wished for this moment, longed for some closure? His expression invited her further, and she buried her face in his neck and held him close. Her shoulders heaved as tears ran down her face.

“I missed you.” was all she could manage.

“I missed you too.” He rested his head against hers while she cried. Their grief was mutual; duty had separated them for too long, and their reunion was bittersweet. Her tears subsided, and the hand that cupped his neck moved to the shaggy beard on his face. She grinned up at him despite the red streaks on her cheeks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so scruffy.” Arturia teased, rubbing her fingers along his jawline.

“It has been awhile since I’ve had a proper shave.” He admitted.

“Then let me groom you.” She was slow to pull away from him, though she kept a firm grip with their laced fingers as she led him further into the apartments. An Armory thrall was sent for, and bath activated, before she set to work relieving him of his armor.

“Why did you leave?” Her voice was soft, lacking the accusation he had expected, as probing fingers found the clasps and seals of his gauntlets. He remained quiet, watching her undress him with curiosity. She moved with a weight about her, a ponderousness she didn’t have when he had seen her last. Ten thousand years had worn down her lightness and joy.

“You know why.”

“I want to hear you.” She paused, her gray eyes locking on his again. Constantin didn’t remember her gaze piercing him so deeply. Perhaps he was growing soft.

“I had to find a way to help our Lord.” Arturia remained as she was, staring. There was hurt there, in her expression. “I needed you to stay.” Still she did not move. He sighed. It was a question he too had struggled with, back then. “No one could know of our intent or destination.”

She broke eye contact with him, returning to her efforts to remove his ramshackle armor. “We looked for your body for years after.”

The thought of her, Aella, and the rest of those he had left behind, scouring the ruins of the palace was not a new thought, but it ached all the same. He pursed his lips. “There was no other way.”

Arturia looked up at him from the clasps of his breastplate, her expression tired but accepting. It was one of the few things they hadn’t argued over- there would always be things he would have to keep from her. Nothing she saw or heard could be kept from him, but there would always be a part of him he withheld. For the first time he wished she would rail against it, to demand all of him, fight over their duty. Had she not earned that most of all?

The moment passed, and once again delicate fingers pursued stubborn and mismatched closures. She was, as ever, dutiful. It was something that he had loved about her, even when he pushed her away in their tumultuous relationship. She sat him down on a plush bench and settled herself on the floor to finish relieving him of the last of his armor.

“Did you complete the mission?”

Constantin’s smile returned. In the few times it was he who left the Legio to serve further away, she liked to ask this upon his return. It seemed silly at the time, for how could there be any doubt? “Yes.”

“Was it worth it?”

His smile did not falter, though his brows furrowed for a moment. This was a deviation from their little tradition. “Yes. Do you trust me?”

He brushed his fingers over the shaved sides of her head, reveling in touching flesh to flesh again. She breathed in, her eyes fluttering closed. His touch was like fire, igniting the hunger she had to simply hold him tight against her chest. Arturia looked up at him, a smile just beginning to curl the edges of her lips. It thrilled him, to see a moment of happiness in her again. He leaned down, brushing her jewelry out of the way to touch his forehead to hers. The smell of her hadn’t changed either, of spiced oil, mint, and earth. She touched the tip of her nose to his and breathed him in. Her fingers found the closure of his body glove and pulled, eager now to reacquaint herself with him. He only released her long enough to shrug it the rest of the way off before he pulled her in.

“Yes.“ She murmured, “A hundred times, yes.”

“Then know when you know what we have done, you will know it was worth it.” He promised.

“I have you now, and that is enough, Constantin.”

That earned her a chuckle. “As you wish, my lady.”

They rose together, her gaze wandering down him. A myriad of familiar scars traced limbs and torso, a testament to his time with the Legio, some familiar, some not. She ran callused fingers over each one as he slowly unbuckled the belt that bore the weight of her weapon and hip plates. It joined the pile of his armor before he began peeling away fabric. New scars like constellations traced her pale skin, though the flesh smiths of the Legio had done fine work to keep them from pulling or thickening to embossed lines. More jewelry hung from her, adding to the illusion of delicate stars and lines like old astronomical maps. He marveled at her beauty, a flawless creation by their Master made only more beautiful by the marks of her devotion and service. She leaned into his wandering hands, pleased to have him touch her so. The beads and dangling gems joined her clothes and armor, then he took her hand and led her to the full steaming tub.

She bade him to settle on the edge of the tub while she collected the instruments to shave him. Constantin stepped in and sunk right into a lounging position near the edge. The heat penetrated muscles he had not quite realized were stiff and sore from the long travel and incarceration. He dipped beneath the water a moment, running his hands through his hair. It had gotten long in his sojourn and, in addition to the beard, had been something he was eager to be rid of. Hopefully Jenetia would not be too heartbroken for him parting with it.

When he resurfaced, Arturia was returning, a basket in hand. Her approach was totally without sound, and though it looked as effortless as breathing for her, he could sense the years it had taken to become so second nature. He watched the sway of her hips and the smooth grace in which she settled on the edge of the tub beside him with relish. Beautiful did not quite encapsulate his thoughts for her. She settled her legs in the water and pulled several bottles from her basket. He scooted closer, resting his weight against her knees. Arturia smiled at him as she began the process of washing his face, lathering his beard, and then drawing the blade across his skin. Constantin closed his eyes, savoring the feelings of her careful touch. There was something about this tender, vulnerable moment- he knew with a deft twist, the gentle tug of the razor could be drawn across his throat without time for him to stop her. But the way she looked at him gave him total security.

Callused fingers brushed over newly smooth skin. “I have missed this face.”

He smiled at her, setting a hand over hers. “I have missed yours.”

She set the blade aside and ran her fingers through his hair. “Do you want your hair as it was as well?”

He nodded, and settled back against her knees again. She started combing through his hair, teasing out the knots and massaging his scalp. After working in a lathering soap, he slipped under the water to let her work it back out again. He came back up and settled himself against her knees again, and she began the process of separating his hair and cutting down the sides before resuming her work with the straight razor.

The whole ritual of it was silent, but the exchange was far from empty. Her hands were warm, gentle, lingering on his skin like she could not touch him enough. He had longed for her touch in his sojourn, and to have her do so now was a dream. Constantin breathed a sigh of disappointment when she finished and let him go.

She slipped into the water and settled herself in the water beside him. He pulled her in close, resting his head against hers.

“You are as beautiful as the day we met.” He murmured.

She curled into him, hands wandering the expanse of his chest. “You are perhaps more beautiful, my eagle.”

Constantin could not help but smile to hear her call him that again. “My mother bird.”

She placed a kiss on his throat. He pulled her on top of him and pressed a kiss to her lips. His hands wandered down her flanks as she straddled him. “I still love you.” Arturia admitted, cradling his head in both hands. He looked up at her.

“I love you.” He whispered back. “I have always loved you.”

She breathed a sigh, as if relieved, before pressing a hungry kiss to his lips. Constantin was quick to reciprocate. Fingers grazed across her scalp before grabbing a handful of her braid and pulled to bare her neck to him. He nipped and kissed, grazing his teeth along her flesh. The hand at her hip grabbed the curve of her butt and squeezed. Arturia pressed her fingernails into his shoulders and her hips twitched with his sudden expression of desire. Constantin listened for every hitched breath, attentive to every movement, her pleasure heightening his own. He sat up to move down her chest, pulling a nipple into his mouth, and ran his hands down the back of her thighs. Arturia moaned and ran her hands through his hair, her hips twitching with the warmth that was building between her legs. He moved to the other breast as his grip on her tightened.

He lifted her up and set her on the edge of the tub and rubbed his burgeoning erection against the crux of her thighs. Arturia whined, her hips rocking in eager anticipation. Constantin pushed her flat on her back, following close behind. He took her lips with his again as his hands wandered her. She pressed against him, pleased to be skin to skin but her impatience was building.

“Constantin!” She demanded, earning her a chuckle.

“As you wish.” He whispered into her mouth and canted his hips so the head of his dick pressed against her entrance. He kissed her again before pushing into her folds. She moaned and trembled as he hilted himself. He bit back a moan of his own. She was tight, warm, pulling him in. It was all he could do not to simply pound her with wanton abandon.

Arturia smiled, staring up at him. Thumbs stroked either side of his face as her insides tightened around him for a moment. He stretched her, pressed as far inside her as he could go. Her hips twitched with her impulse to start grinding against him. She could stay just like this, surrounded and filled by him, warm and content, for the rest of her life.

He withdrew just far enough to leave her almost empty before pushing inside of her again, starting slow. She rolled her hips to meet him, eager to set a quicker pace. Any other time he might have teased her by resisting, smothering her whining with kisses and nips as he thrusted at an agonizingly slow pace, but Constantin succumbed to her unspoken demand, for he craved the rush with her. He quickly picked up the pace, her quiet whimpers turning to breathless cries as he pounded her. Higher and higher her voice went as he got closer to the edge.

“Stan-!” Her voice was a plea, her last coherent thought before she tumbled over.

Throne he had missed her, missed the way she said his name, missed the way she felt as her body tightened around him, missed the look on her face as she came. Her fingernails pressed into his back, egging him on. He didn’t let up, eager to feel her cum on him again, and perhaps a few more times if he could keep from his own precipice.

Her body trembled as she panted, her eyes screwed shut. The heat of their joining pooled in her belly, flowing down her legs and up her spine. Her toes curled as her legs tightened around his waist. The wave crashed over her, but he was already pushing her right up to that edge again. Arturia cried out again as he leaned back down to nip at her neck. He was panting with her now, struggling to keep from tumbling over.

“One more time for me, my love.” He muttered in her ear. She whimpered, wordless, as her sweat-slicked fingers pressed into his back. He smirked, pleased with the way her inner walls gripped his cock. He pushed himself harder, burying himself deep inside her as she clung to him. Again she locked up, to breathless to cry out. From the tip of his head and the tightening in his balls, a moment longer and the heat flooded through his system, and both of them met with sweet release. He unloaded inside her with a groan, filling her totally.

Arturia’s trembling hands stroked the back of his head and shoulders as he rested his head against the curve of her neck. 

“I have missed you.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder before rolling off her. She curled into his side, letting her breathing settle down. He toyed with strands of her ashen hair.

“Welcome home.” She mumbled. He chuckled.

“I never dreamed of seeing you here.”

She pulled herself up onto his chest to look down at him. “I hoped…”

He reached up to stroke her cheek. “You never fail to leave me in awe.”

Arturia leaned in close to his face. “Given my way I would never leave you at all.”

His smile faded a little as his eyes searched her face. “My Misericordia is pocked and worn.”

“If it is given willingly, I would have it all the same.”

His expression turned wistful. To trade Miescordia was a symbol of a couple’s union easily recognized by the rest of the brotherhood, as clear as rings on their fingers. He had a dozen different reasons back then, why he could not take her on as his companion. They all seemed foolish now. “I would have you at my side the rest of my life.”

She kissed him, the edge of her eyes crinkling with the joy in her face.


End file.
